Love Game - Season 2011 (47 page)

              “What the hell?” Sasha grabbed her shampoo and opened the door.

              To her surprise it was Antonia and Martina looking back at her. Even more startling was the fact that Martina was waving the brown envelope in her hand. She must have taken it from Sasha’s bag.

              “What are you doing?” Sasha couldn’t believe that the two had gone through her things. “Give that back!” She tried to grab the envelope but Martina had pulled it back.

              “We also got a picture,” the Argentine blurted out. “Someone slipped it under the hotel room door.”

              “Did someone contact you? Are you being blackmailed?” Antonia anxiously added, grabbing Sasha by the shoulders.

              “What? No!” Sasha answered flabbergasted, freeing herself from Antonia’s grip.

              Her thoughts were racing. She had successfully fended off any rumors about herself, she had been pretending to be in a relationship with Jaro for over a year now and she had kept her distance from the other gay girls on tour to prevent the rumors from surfacing again. But there seemed no way to brazen it out now. Antonia and Martina looked at her, waiting for an explanation. Martina was still holding the brown envelope.

              “Well, there seems to be someone who likes taking pictures of me,” she said with a shrug.

              “The picture is implying that you have a thing for girls,” Antonia said slowly. “Don’t you want to know who it is?”

              Sasha smiled wryly. Antonia and Martina apparently had no idea who had taken the picture. Should she tell them? A thought formed in her head. Perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea to get supporters. Given Antonia’s and Martina’s hot tempers they could be the front pigs. No need to put herself out there and risk her charade with Jaro.

              “I actually do know who it is,” Sasha revealed. Antonia and Martina gasped.

              “Tell us!”

              Without a word, Sasha walked to her locker and started to get dressed. She could feel the couple’s eyes on her back. When she finished dressing she turned around.

              “Why don’t you come with me?” Sasha said calmly, then she shouldered her bag and left the room, followed by a surprised Antonia and Martina.

***

It started to swell instantly. Her breath still short, Lulu continued staring at her ankle, barely hearing the murmur of the crowd around her. She couldn’t even say if it hurt or not. The evidence was just there growing bigger and bigger. She had sprained her ankle.

              She hobbled back to the chair and soon after the trainer arrived to check the damage.

              “When Morgana hit the return into my backhand corner, I wanted to run around my backhand to hit a forehand, but I didn’t have enough time and then I slid and lost my balance.”

              “Does it feel like it cracked?” The trainer looked up at her and Lulu nodded. Oh, how she hated this look, compassionate and grave. She looked away, tears were forming in her eyes. The violet and green paint of the court, the lights on the ceiling of the arena all blurred. A few minutes before, she was still there. Playing, running, hitting forehands and backhands.

              “No. I didn’t hear anything. I twisted it and the pain made me fall down. That’s pretty much it.”

              A voice came up on her left. Instinctively, Lulu looked up and stared at the chair umpire who wanted to know what to do, what to say. Things were so obvious though.

              “I can tape it, of course, and you can give it a try and see if it holds up but I suggest you have it checked as soon as possible. It could be only twisted, sprained but there’s also a chance of a small fracture. It’s risky to play.”

              Damn. Of all the tournaments, she had to get injured during the Year End Championships. Heavily, Luelly shook her head then bit her lower lip before mumbling to herself.

              “Then I had better stop,” she mumbled, still unsure if that was the right decision. It was devastating and heartbreaking. The only positive thing in all this was that it was happening at the end of the season. Thank God it left her time to recover without missing any other tournament. That and the draw. Her next match would have been against Sasha who had just been beaten by Amanda again and that wasn’t a match Lulu had been looking forward to. And if the bad record she had against Sasha wasn’t enough, with her loss against Amanda the Czech player was up against the wall. A win against Lulu was a must, which made her even tougher to play.

              What would have been Lulu’s chances in such a match? Almost none unless Gabriella had played for her. Her sister’s game gave Sasha huge problems, but it was futile to think about it as they didn’t switch matches anymore.

              Looking up at the chair umpire and standing up unsteadily, Lulu nodded. “I cannot go on. I must retire.”

              Leaving her racquet bag and her belongings behind her, Lulu made it to the net and shook the French player’s hand under the crowd’s murmur. Morgana looked genuinely sorry and sad. It wasn’t the way a player wants to win a match.

              “You’ll have other opportunities,” Morgana said. “See you next year. Get well soon.”

              Forcing a smile from her lips, Lulu nodded, wrapped up in mixed feelings. “
Merci
.”

              From the corner of her eye she could see her coach and Gabriella get up and leave the player’s box. Despite all the arguments her sister and she had had over the past months, despite the distance that had grown between them since Wimbledon, Gabriella was her twin, her likeness. Luella could tell from the worried look on Gabriella’s face that she felt the pain as if it was her own. That was more comfort than any painkiller could offer. Luella knew that nothing would ever come between them.

***

Amanda checked her watch. The club had filled rapidly and by now the separate room Candice had booked for the party was packed. The noise of excited chatter drowned out the music and the clink of glasses promised an eventful night. She felt Elise’s hand touching her lower back and looked up.

              “I heard there will be an award show,” Elise whispered in her ear. “They mentioned our names.”

              She looked excited. It was the first time she had been at the YEC award party.

              “Really? Maybe the Couple of the Year Award?” Amanda laughed. “I’ve never won that one before.”

              “Did you win others?”

              “The award for Friendliest Player two years ago,” Amanda smiled. “It’s awarded by the linespeople and ballkids.”

              Elise looked at Amanda. It was no surprise Amanda would win such an award. Elise laid her arm around Amanda’s hip and drew her girlfriend closer.

              When Agnes and Candice took the stage the music was turned off and the buzzing died down. While Agnes stepped behind the DJ desk, Candice took the microphone and everyone looked up at her in thrilled anticipation. After an entertaining introduction, which set the mood for the show, she finally got to the award ceremony. Beginning with the award for Worst Challenge, Agnes played a video sequence of the nominated challenges much to the delight of the crowd. It was no surprise that the award went to Yelena Kovalenko for the third consecutive year. It was followed by the award for Best Tantrum which went to absent Sasha Mrachova for her infamous rant against Anastasia Stea. The chair umpire received a loud applause from the crowd instead.

              After the awards for Friendliest Player, Most Infamous Quote and Most Entertaining Tennis Dress had been announced, Candice paused dramatically.

              “We now come to the most anticipated categories,” she said solemnly. “Let’s crown the Couple of the Year and the Queen of the Love Game.”

              Loud cheering erupted and heads turned around to look in Elise’s and Amanda’s direction. Amanda felt that she was blushing, even more so when Elise placed her hands around her hip. Being rewarded for your achievements on the tennis court was one thing, she thought. But receiving an award for being happy was a bit hilarious. She hoped they wouldn’t get the prize. What should she say on the stage? She didn’t want to say anything. But before she could rack her head, their names were announced and a beaming Elise was dragging Amanda through the applause to the stage. Elise’s excitement died down slightly when Candice handed her the nicely wrapped potted plant.

              “It’s a potted flower,” she said under her breath, smiling in disbelief. Seeing her lover’s disappointed face Amanda cracked up laughing.

              “What did you expect? A week in a hotel in Bali?”

              She squeezed Elise’s arm, who nodded. “Yes,” she confessed, but was already laughing.

              Thankfully they were not expected to make an acceptance speech as Candice went on to announce the winner of the Love Game.

              “She is a tennis lover, a fair player, a wonderful friend and a true champion,” Candice began. “Once again she has outplayed the other umpires in the game that matters most because she has a gift we all want. She knows where the ball lands before it is even hit. She has correctly picked our couple of the year,” Candice said and turned around to nod briefly at Elise and Amanda, “and therefore deserves to pick up this precious award.”

              Dramatically, Candice unwrapped an envelope.             

              “Let’s hear a big applause for the multiple-time champion and this year’s Queen of the Love Game, Lynn Pebblestone.”

              Amanda and Elise stepped back so that Lynn could take centre stage and pick up her pot.

              “What is this Love Game?” Elise tugged Amanda’s sleeve to get an answer.

              “Before the season starts, the umpires pick who on the tour will end up being a couple.”

              “How could she possibly pick us?” Elise wondered.

              “Because she is the best. She has a hawk’s eye,” Elise shrugged. “And she just knows where the ball lands.”

***

After Tom had left the building Sasha had pulled Antonia, Martina and Jaro into a little local cab and had advised the driver to follow Tom, who had taken one of the tournament cars. The decision could have hardly been worse. Even though the Turkish driver had a hard time keeping up with the other car, he tried. Antonia grabbed the door handle to steady herself when the car turned around a corner at full speed.

              “Sasha,” Antonia gasped looking at the others for support. “I do want to talk to Tom, but how are we supposed to do that if we die in a tiny Turkish tin box?”

              “Yes,” Jaro said anxiously. “We should find another way to confront him.”

              Sasha turned around and silenced him with an ice-cold stare.

              “Losers,” she snarled. “If you like you can get out. But I’m here to get the job done.”

              There was no way of getting out of the taxi as the driver continued speeding through the city. He clearly enjoyed speeding in his hometown. Crossing the Bosporus they were on their way to the old part of town. The sun was setting and in the distance they could see Tom leaning out of the window and taking photos of the Istanbul skyline. With the narrow, winding streets blocking the view the taxi driver almost lost Tom several times, until the tournament car became visible again in the evening sun. But when the driver decided to take a shortcut through a badly-lit one-way street, Antonia had had enough.

              “Stop the car,” she yelled. “Stop it right now!”

              She grabbed the driver’s chair from behind and shook it. When the taxi driver didn’t stop due to the fact that they were still in the middle of the one-way road she resolutely clasped the driver’s neck and began strangling him. He managed to drive to the end of the road, then stopped the cab on the sidewalk with squeaking tires.

              Confronted by the driver’s red face and furious threats, Antonia, Martina and Jaro jumped out of the car and ran down the road, while Sasha managed to take out her purse and leave a huge bill on her seat before the driver had time to run around the car. They all met up again behind a corner.

              “Great,” Sasha screamed. “Just great! Now we’ve lost Tom!”

              “It’s only the first day of the tournament,” Antonia snapped back. “We can still talk to him tomorrow. Also, Martina and I have a party to attend.”

              She nodded at Martina who took her hand and they both turned around and walked down the road.

              “What? What party?” Sasha was running after them.

              “Nothing you would be interested in,” Antonia said into the cool night air without looking back at Sasha. But Martina stopped and gesturing for her partner to wait, she turned around to Sasha. From the look on Sasha’s face it seemed the Czech knew exactly what party Antonia was talking about, even though she had never been invited as she had deliberately chosen to stay away from the other players.

              “Why don’t you and your fiancé come with us?” she said wryly. “If you want our help you can just as well socialize with us.”

              Sasha looked at Jaro, who nodded back at her. They began walking through the old part of the city for what seemed like ages, and when they finally found another taxi they drove to the party location still arguing.

              They entered Club Zara and walked to the back and showing her invitation to the doorman, Antonia led them into the private room. They had come just in time to witness Lynn Pebblestone with flower pot in hand delivering a fine speech. A few of the girls turned around and gasped when they saw Sasha with Jaro.

              Antonia had no intention of being seen with the fake couple or talking to Sasha, who was still growling about Tom. She was just about to head into the crowd with Martina, when she spotted a familiar face. She turned around to Sasha.